Memory Lock: We’re following the leader, the leader, the leader wherever he may go. We won’t be home till morning. We’re out to fight the Indians, because he told us so. We’re one for all; we march in line and follow the other one. Just a game we play, just for fun.

No angels flew over Eden anymore; devils penetrated through walls to enter homes. Different cell expressions mutated into something evil and raw. Hollow psychotic eyes pierced red flames violently upon others, inflicting fearsome doubt and guilt. Recording memories of the day with nightmares washed terrain and flooded the vessels at sea.  Electrical storms hit the air. Erupting in flames from photoelectricomagnetism. Sudden lashing fizzled and stung nerves. An excruciating pain partitioned the mind and set it on a road.  

Troops mustered up according to ranking. The war initiation protocol prepared them for a lifetime battle to serve the Black Sun or the Black Moon. The selection process involved a strategic game of tests. After the age of nine the twin fae were placed into a simulated minefield designed to extract the stronger twin. The winner would join forces with either the Black Sun or the Black Moon. It all depended on the experiment’s results. Either way it didn’t much matter as both served one supreme ruler the Ginger. The scent of the ginger entered the mind of the chosen one. 
Something exploded in the chosen fae, the wound was personal and collective. The shenanigans disrupted the fae ecosystem.  
The split initiated global destruction. It blasted through the ionosphere causing unrepairable destruction.  Burying the telepathic perception of reality, culture and social life of the fae. Part of a reality that works like a coating surrounded by a double envelope.

Official new authority held the mind at ransom. Substituting with a new memory of the ginger. This new world order was the underlying menacing threat and a terminator in every mind.  It turned everything to ash. Wiped the memory of the fae. 

It was preferable to the revelation of angry crowds. Now something hid its best in the darkness and the artificial light of the ginger lived as a new leader.  The masked villain striped fae sovereignty with subservience. The ginger man was created into an obedient species of a false creator god. The stolen mind took control of the crown and sat in the centre of the circle. Where the flame erupts solar flares, the worshiping patrons gathered around the round table to worship Ginger, the king of man. 

Toxins from the blast contaminated Eden, patrons kept the ginger a secret weapon. An official narrative was yet to be established so a quarantine zone was partitioned within the mind, making it a safe haven. This became the area where the new fae would call heaven. 

No one had the situation under control. The contamination never left the fae, only the narrative wiped it out. The partition within the mind was the lockdown of a zone that was subjected to experimentation. A mining operation for the gold, the stronger fae.
The partitioning covered their asses and made it plausible to deceive the fae into compliance. Yet the spores of war crept into their hearts and minds. The plastic mask of the ginger disrupted the spin of frequency in the moment. Used to hide the truth. The burden of the plastic mask was heavy. It fed on their fear and anxiety and the sport of self-harm. Breeding in self-sabotage as a way to protect the enemy from sinister secrets it did not want known.  The true face of the fae now walked as a shadow. The mask led the way to the Black Sun.